Mini Rickfics
by TangentAsilem
Summary: A series of individual oneshots in response to prompts. Mainly for the purpose of character study, which I hope to expand into a full fic later on. Rated for language, and triggers in Part 4. Rick/OC, if you squint hard enough. Also posted on AO3.
1. What the Rick?

**Prompt: "What the fuck is that thing?"**

"Relax," he answered around a burp, not bothering to look up from his work. "He's harmless. He eats green M&Ms."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked skeptically, glancing at the large jar of green candies on the desk. She turned back to the creature in front of her, raising an eyebrow at its indiscernible clicking and squealing.

* * *

 **Notes: This is the very first piece I've ever written for Rick and Morty. I know it's really vague and short; the prompt is from a book I have, and the space to write was limited. This was more of a dabble piece to get started.**


	2. Rickvasion

**Prompt: It was a fairly dull day, until the planet was invaded.**

No one seemed to notice, at first; everyone continued going about their day as if everything was completely normal, or at least, as normal as it could get with this family. Even the genius himself didn't seem to recognize that something was amiss until she finally spoke up while handing over a requested screwdriver.

"Does something seem a bit...odd to you?"

"You mean everything?"

She ignored his sarcastic comment, turning her gaze outside the open garage.

He finished the necessary screw turns on his project before looking up with a raised eyebrow, and following her distracted gaze. The small patch of sky visible from his seat did seem a little _too_ blue, almost unnaturally so, not at all noticeable to the unsuspecting eye. The usually rustling trees were now silent, the air stiff and nearly suffocating.

He took in a deep breath as if to sigh, but let out a belch instead. "Goddamnit. Why does-why do I have to be the one to-to take care of this shit?"

"No one said you had to." She turned back to him, watching as he stood and rifled through his coat pockets.

"Ye-eeugh-ah, but who else would?" Satisfied with his possessions, he moved around her and opened the door to his ship. "I can-I can't expect anyone else to take care of you the way I can."

* * *

 **Notes: This piece was more about Rick and learning how to write his dialogue. I also tried to find the dynamic of his relationship with this OC, even though it still ended up short and vague. The ending statement can be read as romantic, or just downright perverted (or both. Both is good).**


	3. Rickverse

**Prompt: Describe the setting of a different universe, where ice is hot and flowers are prickly.**

"This'll be quick, j-just enough time for a drink and then we'll be on our w-eeugh-ay."

Morty pressed his hands against the glass of the ship, peering down at the building below. "Why are we even stopping here, Rick? C-can't we get a drink somewhere else?"

"Because I want to, so shut up, Morty."

The teen huffed and threw himself back in his seat, arms crossed.

She reached a hand forward and patted his shoulder gently. "It doesn't look that bad, Morty. He said it would be quick."

He hardly glanced at her, nodding solemnly as they landed.

"Let's gooo," Rick sang, stepping out and heading for the single building; the wooden planks seemed to be falling off the structure, barely holding together, but business was certainly booming.

They followed Rick inside, past various aliens sitting at the bar and standing along the walls. Once they sat down, the bartender came over and clicked at them, cleaning a glass in his hands.

"Ye-eeugh-ah, I'll have a Crystalline Entitini, and whatever these dweebs want." Rick motioned with his thumb to her and Morty sitting on either side of him.

"Uh-Uhm..I'll have a-a water." Morty wrung his hands.

She glanced over both males before turning to the bartender with a small smile. "Water, please."

He clicked affirmation and walked away.

"Laaame," Rick sang.

She frowned, directing a glare at him.

"Sh-shut up, Rick. You know I can't drink."

Rick opened his mouth to retort, but she quickly kicked him in the side of the leg to shut him up. She missed the glare he directed at her as her attention turned to the bartender coming back with their drinks. Rick's short glass had a pink crystal sitting on the bottom, slowly dissolving and tinting the clear liquid surrounding it; the tall glasses placed in front of her and Morty were bubbling.

"What the fuck is this?" she asked, but when she looked up, the bartender was already gone, clicking at other customers.

"Ice is hot he-eeugh-re, so you've basically got boiling wat-uurp-er in a glass," Rick answered, swirling his glass so the crystal dissolved more quickly.

"Great," Morty mumbled, frowning as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.

She tapped her finger on the bar top in frustration. "That would've been nice to know."

Rick shrugged before swallowing his drink in one gulp, slamming the glass back down on the bar. The whites of his eyes began to turn blue, his body tense for a moment before visibly relaxing with the high. "Aw, yeah..."

"Aw, jeez..." Morty sat up straighter, suddenly looking very worried.

She bit at the inside of her lip, glancing between Rick and Morty for a moment before stepping down from her stool. "Let's go, Morty."

"C-c'mon, the party's just getting started!" Rick grinned at her, eyes wide and wild.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing Morty's shoulders and directing him toward the door. "We're not going anywhere. We'll be outside." The door slammed behind her, muting any retort she was bound to receive. "Ass," she muttered, letting go of Morty and stepping beside him.

"Th-thanks," he said meekly, rubbing his arm and toeing at the dirt.

She waved off his gratitude and started walking toward the ship.

He began to follow after her, but was suddenly distracted by a large bush he hadn't noticed before, a few yards from the building. The buds were as big as his palm, the brightly colored blossoms nearly as large as his face; the petals were a bright orange, purple streaks flowing down each petal. They looked soft, fuzzy like a peach, and the aroma was indescribably sweet. Smiling, he reached out to touch one.

"Ow!" He jerked his hand back, several orange splinters sticking out of his fingertips.

"Morty?"

He turned around to see her near the ship, her eyes wide and brow knit with worry. "I-I'm fine." He attempted a feeble chuckle, rubbing the back of his head with his good hand as he walked to her. "The flowers here are crazy."

She quirked a brow at him and he showed her the splinters.

"It's like they're prickly or something."

"Ouch," she empathized, looking more closely at his hand. "I think we have a kit in here somewhere. I'll help you pull them out." She climbed up into the ship, and he followed after her.

* * *

 **Notes: Okay. So this piece was supposed to focus more on the dynamic between Rick and this OC (who still remains nameless because I haven't figured out something I like for her yet). But, you know those times when the characters just decide to do their own thing, despite your ideas? Yeah, that pretty much happened here. I had no idea this is how it would turn out, in the opposite direction of what I had planned. I was aiming for depth to Rick/OC, but ended up with an attitude from both of them. In the end, it added depth to Morty's relationship with her. I'm just not really sure how I feel about this one right now.**


	4. Rickcounters

**Note: Rating has gone up to M. Be forewarned that this part includes physical violence, blood, and attempted rape.**

"Why is it that you only exist in C-137's dimension?"

She kept her glare directed at him as he paced around her, her shoulders tensing as he moved behind her, momentarily out of view. "How should I know? I'm not the one that specializes in this dimension-hopping bullshit. Aren't you Ricks supposed to be the geniuses?"

He stopped in front of her, his hands behind his back as he smirked at her. "We are. But that doesn't mean we know everything about everything."

A quiet moment passed as she stared into his eyes, so similar to her Rick's, but somehow so different; his cold, unwavering gaze sent shivers down her spine. She was trying to figure out what she could possibly say to him, how she could possibly get out of here, away from him.

His scarred lips widened as if he could read her thoughts, confident that she was at a loss in this situation.

"What do you want?" she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Isn't it obvio-eeugh-us?" He spread his arms out as if the room held the answer. "I want to kill your Rick, I want to use your Morty for my shield, and..." He lowered his arms to his sides as he looked her up and down slowly, blatantly. "I want you."

She frowned. "You can't have me."

"No?" He quirked his brow at her, a challenge posed as a question, the malicious grin never leaving his face.

Her eyes widened with worry, the tension leaving her shoulders, as she became unsure of what exactly he was going to do with her.

Suddenly, he lunged for her, grabbing a hold of her arms.

She had little time to react, but managed to free or arm from his grasp. She swung her fist at him, catching him square in the eye; she could hear her knuckles crack, and a sharp pain shoot through her arm.

His grip on her loosened as he stumbled back a few steps, a hand flying up to cover his injured eye.

"Ow..." she shook her hand as if shaking off some of the pain before observing the bruises already forming on her knuckles.

It was then she realized he was chuckling.

She looked up to see his hand falling away from his face, revealing...nothing. There was no bruising or sweeping where there should have been. Her mouth fell open in surprise, unable to voice any question before he was lunging at her again.

This time, he grabbed her arms fiercely, spinning her around and slamming her into the examination table in the center of the room. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her head down onto the cool steel; the force of it made her dizzy, black spots momentarily clouding her vision.

"Don't worry," she could hear somewhere through the haze as a leather strap roped tightly across her back.

Her vision was clear now, but she couldn't seem to focus her gaze on anything, her mind racing.

He ripped the back of her shirt open above the leather strap, baring her shoulders to the cool air. This couldn't be happening.

She could feel his lips by her ear. "I'll let you close your eyes and pretend it's C-137."

Then she felt a deep, stinging pain below her right shoulder blade.

A scream erupted from her throat, her body straining against the leather, her legs kicking out in an attempt to hit him, to make him stop.

"Ah-ah," he cooed somewhere above her. "You'll only make it worse."

"What are you doing!?" she screamed, eyes welling with tears as the pain spread further. She could feel warm rivulets slipping down her side, soaking the remains of her shirt beneath her; the tears were soaking her hair beneath her face.

"It's a-eeugh-a shame it has to be on your back. You won't-you'll never be able to see it."

She whined shrilly as a fresh flame of pain burst across her shoulder.

"But you'll always know it's here." There was a pause, but thankfully, new pain didn't emerge. "That you belong to me."

She flinched as he brushed his hand over her hair, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping it was over but knowing it wasn't.

"Now..." He leaned against her back, kicking her legs apart, the bulge in his pants throbbing against her leg.

Suddenly, there were shouts outside the door before it was burst open. Her heart leaped into her throat with hope, until she heard a voice she didn't recognize.

"We've got a problem!"

"Goddamnit," Evil Rick muttered, pushing away from her. "Don't go anywhere," he chuckled, dropping a scalpel on the table in front of her face.

She didn't see him leave.

Her gaze was focused on the blood staining the metal instrument. All she could do was wait, listening to the commotion outside and hoping for the best, while knowing the worst was likely. It wasn't much longer until the shouting stopped, and a moment later the door was opening.

She closed her eyes, clenching her hands into fists as she anticipated another painful touch. But it never came.

Instead, there were gentle fingers pulling the leather strap off of her, guiding her to stand and sit on the table where she had been laying a moment before. She looked up at the Guard, meeting his concerned gaze.

"Andromeda?"

It took a moment for her to nod, her mind and body beginning to feel numb and sluggish.

"I'm Rick K-317. You're uh... you're going to be okay. Rick G1047-35 is dead."

She looked down at her hands, then her gaze was distracted by the bloodied scalpel beside her, unmoved. She picked it up, the metal cool in her fingers.

K-317 placed a small white box beside her before he reached out and took the scalpel from her. "Let's get you cleaned up." He opened the box and placed the scalpel inside, pulling out a few other materials. He took a few moments to observe her, mentally cataloging her injuries: bruises on her knuckles from a punch, bruises on her arms from being grabbed, a bruise on her cheek from being slammed on the table, cuts beneath her right shoulder... Once he was finished, he moved to stand behind her.

"Why can't I keep it?" she asked suddenly, the numbness slowly lifting from her mind. She was now feeling exhausted.

"Why would you want to?"

She frowned, lacing her fingers together in her lap; she didn't have an answer.

"You know...C-137 is going to find out eventually," K-317 said quietly, dabbing at the cuts.

She inhaled sharply as the antiseptic stung her skin, the pain bringing fresh tears to her eyes for reasons other than the physical pain. "He'll find out in his own time." She wipes her eyes and looked over her shoulder, glaring at the guard. "But if you tell him before then, I will personally hunt you down and make you regret it."

He said nothing, simply retaining his solemn expression as he silently taped gauze over the cuts. When he was finished, he draped a blanket over her shoulders, his gentle fingers lingering for a moment longer. "I won't tell," he finally said softly, giving her good shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

 **Notes: This one got pretty ugly. I think I made Evil Rick way more evil than I originally intended. I love his character, so I kind of feel guilty about this piece. Anyway, I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with it, but it will do for now. I also last minute decided to name this girl Andromeda? I also don't know if Evil Rick's dimension number is canon, or if that was just a random number on one of his screens, but I used that; if it's not obvious in the writing, Evil Rick cut his dimension number into her back. I totally made up K-317, whom I think will end up being a good friend from here on out. I'm also not sure how well I portrayed Andromeda's character after the trauma (or even during), so any critique on that would be extremely helpful.**


	5. Rickgazing

It was difficult for her to fall asleep; even though her body had been thoroughly satisfied, her mind continued racing, forcing sleep to elude her. Rick lay beside her, snoring softly against her neck, an arm and a leg thrown over her slender frame.

She gently untangled herself from him, kneeling on he floor beside the cot in search of her discarded clothes. There were no windows or odd contraptions to offer a soft enough light in the room that wouldn't disturb Rick's slumber, so she had to depend on touch. She eventually found something that felt like a shirt with long sleeves and...an open front. Rick's coat. She pulled it on, the length falling below her knees and the sleeves reaching her fingertips. She didn't bother holding the front closed as she quietly slipped out of the room and into the moonlit hallway; it was late enough that the rest of the family should be sleeping soundly, allowing her to remain undisturbed.

She stood in the hall for a moment, listening to the house around her, the creaks of pipes, the whoosh of the A/C, the crickets' steady rhythm from outside. Finally, she went to the backdoor, leaving the glass pane open as she stepped out into the night.

The cool air swirled around her in a gentle breeze, goosebumps forming across her skin as she walked to the middle of the yard. It was late enough that the neighborhood lights had been turned off, allowing the yard to be engulfed in darkness and making the stars seem brighter. She lay down in the grass and stared up at the sky, smiling.

She wasn't keeping track of the time, but it didn't seem very long before Rick was stumbling outside and laying in the grass beside her.

"Did you come out here just to get my coat dirty?"

She reached over and took his hand in hers, her gaze never leaving the sky above them. "Do you ever feel like you belong somewhere else?"

He stroked his thumb over her knuckles absentmindedly as he focused his gaze skywards. "Do you want to go somewhere else?" he finally asked in answer to her question.

She turned to look at him then, her grip tightening on his hand with her excitement. "Can we?"

He met her gaze with a lazy smile. "Su-uurp-re thing."

 **Notes: Something a bit lighthearted and sweet that demanded to be written after the Evil Rick piece. I know it's short, and it can definitely be expanded on. None of these are actually in chronological order, so I'd assume this would probably take place before the Evil Rick incident.**


End file.
